


And another thing

by esama



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 03:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16610846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esama/pseuds/esama
Summary: Desmond, Shaun, Rebecca and Bill travel from end of AC3 to start of Brotherhood.





	And another thing

**Author's Note:**

> Proofread credit to Nimadge

Desmond is already up when the rest of them come to, which is a bit of a change to how it usually goes. The others come to more or less at the same time, but judging by the looks of him, he's been up for a while anyway. Rebecca wakes up with her forehead against Shaun's with Desmond's hoodie bundled up under both their heads – Bill with his own coat under his. So, however long it has been, it's been long enough for Desmond to have made them comfortable while he waited.

"What happened?" Shaun asks as they gingerly get up, nursing various aches and stiff joints, Rebecca cracking her spine as she stretches.

"Well, good news is, we're not dead," Desmond says from where he's sitting, at the foot of one of the statues. "Bad news is, we're not in Kansas anymore."

"Kansas?" Bill mutters rubbing at his forehead and looks around. His eyes widen a little as he takes in the statues and then he whirls around to look at Desmond – sitting at the feet of Altaïr Ibn-La'ahad.

"This is –" Rebecca says slowly, standing up.

"The sanctuary," Shaun says and springs up beside her. "We're at the Auditore villa? How the – we're supposed to be half the world away!"

Desmond just sort of looks at them, looking resigned and expectant as they look around, taking the sanctuary in. It's not quite how it should be, not quite how they'd known it. The walls and floors are whole, the ceiling hasn't collapsed, there are no mosses or sneaky vines growing in the place, the room doesn't look quite as ruined and abandoned, not yet. Even the statues look newer.

"Son?" Bill says slowly, looking up at the statue of Altaïr Ibn-La'ahad. "What is this?"

"I told you to get out," Desmond says with a wry sort of helplessness. "You should've just gotten out when I told you to."

* * *

 

So the world ends and you travel back in time. What do you do?

"Let's not panic," Bill says to the four Assassins, none of whom are actually panicking. "We have more experience with history than most, first hand experience with some of us. Let's assess the situation first and figure out what to do then. Desmond, do you know what time it is?"

"Outside or in term of years?" Desmond asks. "Outside its daytime, timewise it's anywhere from 1500 to 1507."

"This is after Siege of Monteriggioni?" Shaun asks.

"Mmhmm. The sanctuary was sealed and the town is abandoned and all in ruins – but Ezio hasn't been here to leave the message at the entrance," Desmond says, motioning towards the staircase, which is both in better shape than they remember and also lacking the platforms they'd fitted over the stairs to get their equipment down into the hall under the ground.

"There's nobody here, no one at all?" Shaun asks. "Hmm. It will have to be before 1503 then. After Rodrigo died and the papal forces stopped enforcing the exclusion here, people eventually returned to Monteriggioni, the first returnee was around 1503. Did you see any Papal forces out there?"

Desmond shrugs. "There's no one. The whole place is empty. Also it looks like after Ezio left there was a fire, most of the town's been burnt to the ground."

"Alright, we know the year, roughly speaking," Bill says. "What happens in year 1503?"

"Generally or this area?" Shaun asks wryly. "Lots and not much. Monteriggioni takes a long while to recover from the attack. It's eventually settled by some lesser aristocrats, but no one really noticeable – nothing like the Auditore. They never manage to repair the place properly, the walls are never fixed and the Auditore villa is just sort of left in ruins. It kind of lost all importance when Cesare Borgia destroyed the walls and made it indefensible. Monteriggioni died, no one really managed to revive her and afterwards she just sort of fades out of history."

Desmond frowns a little at that, but says nothing while the others consider the room around them.

"I think the question is, do we have any hope of getting back home?" Shaun asks and turns to Desmond. "Can we? We know locations of a few of Pieces of Eden, several more if you count ones discovered later on that are still in the ground in this time. Could we use those?"

Desmond looks down. Judging by his expression, he's already been thinking about it. "The Eye was the most powerful bit of machinery they've ever built. Maybe, if we managed to find the power sources in this time to activate it again, but then…"

"... Then there would be no power left to use it in the future to save the world," Bill finishes the thought. "Do you think it worked, son?"

"... I think so, yeah, but," Desmond shrugs. "No way to know for sure."

"So what's our next move?" Rebecca asks, looking between them.

No one says anything for a moment.

"Back to basics," Bill then says. "We're in a foreign, potentially hostile territory. We have shelter, we need food, water, weapons and disguises. Once we have the basics covered, we'll do reconnaissance and reassess the situation."

Shaun and Rebecca glance at Desmond. He shrugs. "Sounds like a plan to me."

* * *

 

Desmond finds most of what they need, having better handle of what's where in Monteriggioni of this time. Even the Borgia couldn't drain the well and they'd missed some secret food stores with still some dry goods left, grain mostly – along with several barrels and bottles of really good wine. Clothing is little harder to come by, but what's intact is mostly found in the Auditore Villa. Fire some reason, while the house has been ransacked, it’s not as badly off as most other houses in the burned, bombed husk of a town.

"I think they left is as intact as possible to try and tempt Ezio to return," Shaun says while they pilfer through various bits of clothes they'd found. "So that they'd catch him. Plus, Auditore were art hoarders, so burning the mansion down was a big no no in general."

"Are art hoarders," Desmond says, starting at a familiar green vest, running his fingers over the intricate embroidery. It's old and faded with age, but in a surprisingly good condition. Swallowing he turns away. "Some of them are still alive, here."

Shaun hesitates. "Fucking up history is a big no no too. You stick your nose in Ezio's life, you might end up undoing good five hundred years of your own family history."

Desmond gives him a look and then looks up as Rebecca comes into the room, carrying with her an armload of stuff.

"Look at what I found," she says and drops the whole thing to the table between them. It's at first a messy bundle of black cloth mostly, but as she unwinds the wrapped trails, revealing streaks of red and bits of white – and leather – Desmond realises what it is.

"They just left it here?" Shaun asks, shocked.

"I don't think they even found it. Ezio's room is all collapsed," Rebecca says. "But I figured, if there's weapons anywhere, it's up there."

"If Ezio's room is all collapsed, how did you –"

"With cunning use of a long stick and mathematics," Rebecca says. "I levered the collapsed bits out of my way until I could get inside. Anyway, all Ezio's gear is still up there. I just figured I'd bring this thing down first because, you know… it's this thing."

This thing being the Armour of Altaïr. Desmond runs his hand over the thick black fabric, wondering how it's made – it's definitely no wool or linen, it doesn't feel like silk either, but… it's definitely something different. It feels synthetic more than anything. And the armour itself – it's not actually made of metal either. Its soft and feels like thick layers of fabric covered in something like leather.

"Well," Shaun says and looks at Desmond. "If any one of us knows what to do with that thing… it's you."

"Yeah," Desmond agrees and unzips his hoodie. "Yeah, I guess."

Pulling the armour on is a bit more complicated than any of them figured – there are whole lot of buckles and belts and buttons none of them knew about and figuring out what goes where takes both Shaun and Rebecca helping Desmond dress. They've just barely done figuring out how to get the sash and the belt the way they should go, when Bill joins them.

He's wearing Mario Auditore's clothes.

"Well," the man says at the sight of his son in full Assassin regalia. "Well," he says again and clears his throat.

"It's heavier than I thought," Desmond murmurs, tugging at the hood. The hood is a lot thicker than the Animus led him to believe. He had a rising suspicion that The fabric the robes are made of might be something like Kevlar. Altaïr had figured out bulletproof fabrics eight hundred years ahead of the schedule. Scary.

"It – suits you, son," Bill says, adjusting the gambeson he's wearing. Then he looks at Shaun and Rebecca. "Haven't you found anything to wear yet?"

"Working on it," Shaun says and turns to Rebecca. "You think Ezio's room might have something that'll fit me? Most what's here is for women."

"Let's go check it out," she says and they head off, Rebecca calling, "I'll get you the rest of Ezio's stuff, Desmond," as they go.

Bill looks at Desmond. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you'd be comfortable historical armour," he says. "It suits you, Desmond."

"Finally look like a proper Assassin, huh?" Desmond asks wryly.

Bill answers with a crooked smile and looks down at his sleeve. He flicks his wrist and a blade sticks out. "You've always looked like an Assassin," he says. "Even before you could really talk properly, you had to have a jacket or shirt with a hood, a white one, or you'd riot. In the end we just bought you white hoodies in bulk. They never stayed white for long," he says in tones of nostalgia and then clears his throat. "Modern Assassins aren't a flashy as our historical counterparts, we couldn't afford it, but you… always looked the part."

Desmond doesn't really know what to say about that.

Bill hums in agreement to his silence. "What say you we have a look around the turn while Shaun and Rebecca find clothes?"

"Yeah, sure."

* * *

 

Mental vertigo of walking around the ruined Monteriggioni in Ezio's armour aside, there's not much to see. Dead bodies in various stages of decomposition. Bird nests all over the place. More and more ruined houses. There are some which are still standing, but fire had destroyed their insides, including all the shops, the barracks, the brothel, the church.

Ezio spent over twenty years repairing and renovating Monteriggioni, and it's all been brought to ruin, just like that. It's more than a little heartbreaking.

"We will have to stay low," Bill says as they walk. "Stay out of sight, out of public notice – out of history."

Desmond doesn't answer, looking up a burned tree trunk that had been growing in a small patch of well maintained grass amidst the streets. It's all dead now.

"Do you think there is really no way to get back to where we came from, son?" Bill asks.

"If there is, I don't know it. I didn't even know time travel was possible, outside the Animus," Desmond says and looks down, feeling little unsettled. "Are there Pieces of Eden that let you timetravel?"

"There are always rumours, but very little knowledge that's actually been verified as factual," Bill says. "Honestly speaking, at this point you are becoming more of an expect on the matter than the rest of us. Before you, it had been decades since Assassins had handled any of the PoEs, none in my time. And I don't think that those who did had your… affinity for them."

Affinity. Nice easy way of putting _you were genetically engineered over many generations to use them in ways others weren't,_ really. Desmond sighs. "Best bet would be to try getting to Vatican and talk to Minerva, if she'll even bother answering us," he says. "That's not staying low, though."

Bill hums. "You know this time the best. Could you do it, unseen and unnoticed?"

"Um," Desmond answers, hesitant, thinking to the guards all over the Vatican district, the massive crowds in Vatican itself. He's gotten better at the art of being an Assassin, and nothing would compare to scaling an unfinished skyscraper in New York, but… the skyscraper wasn't guarded. Abstergo tower was, but not with armoured soldiers.

"Maybe," he says slowly, worriedly. "Maybe."

"Let's try to get our bearings first," Bill says and clasps his shoulder. "And figure out what comes after."

* * *

 

It's late in the evening of a cloudless day, and Matteo is going around the farmstead, checking up on the animals, the pens, the buildings, making sure everything is where it should be and the doors are locked. It hasn't been safe to leave even barn unlocked since the Auditore left, and even now Matteo feels a strange sort of bitterness over it. You never know how good your have it until it's all gone, do you? For most of his adult life there's been an Auditore in the villa and the area had been safe as anything, and now…

Now the good folk of the region don't even know who their lands belong to. Are they now part of the Republic of Fiorentina, or Tuscany, or have the Papal States claimed the lands of Monteriggioni… It's one thing to have the land you're living on be contested – it's another for no one to want to claim it.

Sighing as he tests the fence, Matteo looks up and towards the dark walls of the city, so close and so safe previously and now all dark, looming over them but offering no shelter, not anymore.

Then he squints.

There are two figures barely visible in the light of the setting sun, walking along the path that marks the front of the town. Even at a distance, one of them is clearly recognisable – no one wears clothing in the style of Ezio Auditore. Which makes the broader figure beside him…

"Good lord in heaven," Matteo murmurs, making a sign of the cross, as the two men head back into the town, disappearing into the shadows under the gates.

No wonder no one wants the town.

It's clearly plagued by restless spirits.

* * *

 

"You look like a tart," Shaun says. "And I mean the dessert. You look like a proper bloody cake."

"You're just jealous I can pull this off," Rebecca says, smoothing her hands over the front of the dress. It's probably one of Claudia Auditore's dresses, judging by the design. It's the only one that fit Rebecca properly. It is also properly fancy with all sort of embroidery and open collar and puffy sleeves and everything. She would have to net her hair to hide how short it is, maybe add in a hairpiece if she wanted to blend in with high society, but...

"You think I'd want to wear a dress?" Shaun asks with a scoff.

"Honestly, you'd look less ridiculous in it than in _that,_ " Rebecca says, grinning.

Shaun rests his hands on his hips. "I would have you know this is highly fashionable for the time."

"Mmhmm. You look like Ezio's favourite type of person. A minstrel."

Shaun looks down. He had a feeling he might be wearing Leonardo da Vinci's clothes – which, let's not wonder why those might be found in Ezio's closet. The doublet is much nicer than anything Ezio would bother to wear anyway, the man is surgically attached to his Assassin robes. There is a certain da Vinci flair to the doublet too, the design of the sleeves and the cut of the breeches and such. Plus, a cape. Shaun is just one berret short of full cosplay, really.

He's just sad there wasn't a set of thigh high boots to go with the clothes. He's wearing much shorter ankle boots, which just don't have the same gravitas.

"You two are starting to look more time appropriate," Desmond comments. "Rebecca, I honestly didn't expect a dress."

"What, you don't think I could pull one off?"

"Didn't think you would," Desmond says. "No offence meant."

"None taken, I usually wouldn't," she admits. "But there's just something irresistible about proper period dresses. I mean, look how nice this thing is?" She spreads her arms and does a little spin.

"It's a trap, don't look," Shaun says quickly. "She's a witch, looking too closely will melt your eyes."

Rebecca punches him in the shoulder.

Desmond looks at Shaun in turn and arches his brows. "Is that Leonardo's?"

"Probably. Want to know where I found it?

Desmond looks curious. "Does that mean you admit you owe me fifty bucks?"

"On second thought, never mind where I found it," Shaun says and adjusts the cape. "Now that we're all properly dressed, what next? Do we have a plan?"

"Plan of a plan," Desmond says and looks at his dad.

Bill clears his throat, shaking his head at them. "Do you think that Minerva would talk to Desmond if he made it to the temple, the one under Vatican?"

Shaun and Rebecca exchange looks. "Absolutely," "Without question." Desmond sighs in forlorn agreement.

Bill nods slowly. "That's sort of a plan then," he says. "If it's worth the risk and the trip is another thing. Would she help us, give any information? Could we trust that information if she did give any?"

"Well, out of the three Precursors we've talked to, she seemed the nicest," Rebecca says. "Tinia was forthcoming, but he didn't tell you anything we didn't already know, did he?"

"And Juno is just bloody mental overall," Shaun mutters.

"Minerva is our safest bet if we're hoping to get guidance from the Precursors," Desmond agrees. "And time being her domain and all, she's probably already aware of us. If she's still watching."

"Is her timeline running parallel to yours or the world's?" Rebecca wonders. "Or the Sun's? When is she, relative to us?"

There's a moment of silence.

"Let's not," Shaun then says. "Relativity gives me a headache in best of days and this is not the best day ever."

"Agreed," Bill says and looks at Desmond. "So, son? Feel like making a trip to Rome?"

Desmond looks at him and then at the others. "I'm getting a feeling I'm going alone," he says slowly. "Why am I going alone?"

"We've got a secure hideout here with pretty good odds no one will come bothering us here for a while," Rebecca points out.

"We don't know the lay of the land or the customs," Bill says.

"Or speak Italian like a native," Shaun adds wryly.

Desmond lifts his hands in defeat. "Alright, alright. I get it. I'll go."


End file.
